


Basic Knowledge of Angels

by organizechaos



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Comfort, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crying Aziraphale (Good Omens), Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, No Smut, Touch-Starved, can be read as an asexual relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24907276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/organizechaos/pseuds/organizechaos
Summary: This fic is complete, I will be updating on Thursdays (there's only three parts)Angels need touch, it's a well-known fact. Crowley knows it, other angel's know it, and yet Aziraphale has been set on making himself forget over the course of his long years on earth.After the Eden incident, things changed for the principality. He was cut off from the side of heaven that gave touch freely and was forced to satisfy his needs elsewhere. When he rebels with Crowley against their respective sides during the apocalypse, he realizes that heaven will never sate him, no matter what he does. Crowley, being the ever diligent demon he is, knows that at some point Aziraphale will need that touch again now that they officially cut ties. He doesn't know Aziraphale's history with touch, only that angels need it to survive. But of course he is willing to give everything and anything to his angel.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 284





	1. Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first time posting on this site. Not quite sure how it all works but I was tired of waiting to figure it out. This fic will definitely be my test-run while I figure out posting and such. I should be able to keep to the schedule since this is all written already, so we'll see. The first chapter is mainly a prologue to the actual story which will mainly happen during the second chapter. Again, I don't really know what I am doing but I hope you enjoy regardless.

_Humans touched a lot_ , Aziraphale noticed not for the first time. He had been sitting alone on a bench, wiping stray crumbs off his pants onto the ground for the crowd of ducklings he had acquired. A human couple had walked by, stumbling into each other's arms, gazes soft and loving. They giggled as their hands laced together between them. Aziraphale averted his eyes as they passed, only looking back to catch a glimpse of the two pulling each other in for a delicate kiss.

 _A couple in love_ , he thought to himself, abruptly shifting his gaze back to the dirt path before him. His cheeks were tainted pink and his hands were folded neatly in his lap. The familiar hurt in his chest overwhelmed his senses. As it always did, it left him silently begging — praying — for a touch like that, any touch would suffice at this point.

Squeezing his eyes shut and with a deep breath, he let the pressure dissipate as he had done for centuries. Just a dull ache remained as a reminder of his desperate want. _It was no use to dwell on such a useless pain_ , Aziraphale told himself, _there was nothing to be done_.

You see, angel’s were built with a need for comfort and touch, it’s their purpose. Yet, over the millenia’s Aziraphale worked on earth, he forced himself to see it as just another trait that separated him from the ideal angel he was meant to be. It was much easier to tell himself that rather than face the fact that heaven had become something unimaginably cruel.

Heaven had been a soothing place, a home, where angel’s loved and touched each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It was something embedded into an ethereal being; yet after the Eden incident, heaven had stopped being so comforting… at least to him.

Every time he would go upstairs, the angels he encountered were rigid and business like. There was no comforting gaze or hands casually brushing each other or any touching in general. The archangel's simply ordered him around, standing out of arm's reach and no comforting warmth radiating from their power as it had once before.

At first, the transition was harsh for the poor angel. Being raised in constant touch and love, the sudden lack was abrupt and uncomfortable. Trying to get what he needed from humans was looked down upon from heaven. There was a stigma of ruining God's newest creation that was still fresh in Aziraphale’s mind. He tried to be the good soldier, keeping his needs to himself, refusing to show weakness. But as anyone who had basic knowledge of angels, it wasn't a surprise when he came back to heaven. It was just a matter of time.

Aziraphale held out for about a year. Which was quite an impressive feat, yet wasn’t acknowledged by the higher ups. He returned to the gates pleading with tears in his eyes, begging for someone to make the ache go away… to just touch him. He yearned for the comfort that heaven once had, for a loving touch he was denied for so long.

To this day, the scene that unfolded before him was burned into the back of his mind. Something he had tried so hard to forget, but needed the reminder for the long years ahead. The archangels stared at him, mannerisms much more sophisticated compared to Aziraphale’s own sloppy pleads. After allowing him to say his piece, they shared a look before Gabriel approached.

The principality nearly cried out in relief when the archangel had stepped into his personal space. It was the closest anyone had gotten to him in an incredibly long time. The warmth that radiated off of him had the angel’s eyes fluttering shut in the anticipation of touch, a hopeful smile gracing his lips.

There was a rough, hot touch on his cheek. Steady fingers digged into Aziraphale’s skin more harshly than expected. His eyes flew open wide as he was forced to look up into the depths of violet irises. An uneasy feeling settled deep down into the angel's stomach as a fevered heat overwhelmed him. Despite his nerves, this was exactly what he had asked for and he sighed into the touch. Trying to relax into it and remember the feeling of what heaven was like.

"You really believe," Gabriel started, his voice low and dark, "that you deserve to be touched, you _pathetic_ excuse of an angel." He dropped his hand and the warmth was abruptly torn away. The void that Airaphale was desperately trying to fill was left gaping open. He couldn’t hold himself together anymore and was forced to his knees, shivering as fear, dread, and a terrible coldness debilitated his corporation.

"You abandoned your post, lost your sword, — a divine object may I remind you —" Michael hissed, "Not to mention, extended a wing to a demon, the great tempter of all beings! Aziraphale…" The archangel chided, "be thankful to god almighty you have not fallen."

The principality choked on an apology, a plea, anything to just make the cold go away. He _needed_ that touch, no matter how rough or cruel it was. The pressure in his chest was stronger as it had ever been and longed for release. He couldn't vocalize anything except for a soft sob.

A snide laugh was heard as Sandalphon continued Michael’s threat, "Until we deem you worthy, you won't be getting the comfort you so _desperately_ need." his golden eyes raked over the quivering angel crying before him. Sandalphon just laughed mercilessly in his face, "Good luck getting it from those humans."

A chorus of laughs was heard as Aziraphale felt himself get transported back down to Earth. It was dark and wet, wherever they sent him. He laid on the cold ground, eyes trained to the darkening sky above him. It was raining.

His usually soft bright curls dampened and darkened until it matched the mud he was laying in. His tears blended with rainwater as glassy blue eyes stared up, unblinking. Shivers racked his body and quiet sobs were drowned out by the rainfall.

He had prayed to her for the warmth that he had once known to be her light. He prayed for a ray of sunshine. A friendly angel or human. Or even the kindness of a red-headed demon. Anything to make just the fraction of his pain disappear. Yet, nothing and no one ever came.

As the years passed Aziraphale grew to realize that despite his pain, he didn't regret any of the things he did in Eden. Though his punishment was harsh, he was resourceful and found different ways to cope:

First thing he tried was human companionship. Their lingering touches were enjoyable in the moment but in the end the anguish from their loss lasted longer than the comfort he gained. After many centuries of losing many human companions — that only ever resulted in decades of depression after their passing — , he resolved that he would always be one lonely angel. Of course his resolve broke over the course of the millenia’s, but it was never his first choice to satisfy his need.

Then there was alcohol: his most trusted. It was liquid warmth and when he drank enough of it, it was easier to forget his torment. When the world tilted and his vision blurred, he would finally be able to relax. If he couldn't sit up straight, it was a good sign. The hard drinks coated his corporation like an armor, protecting him from the wrath of heaven.

Food was one of his favorite coping mechanisms. It was more of a distraction, really. Humans were increasingly creative with how they mixed spices and meats together over the years. There was always something new to try. The angel loved every aspect of it. Consuming such foods made his corporation warm and content. It helped fill the void in his chest that seemed to freeze his very core.

His all time favorite coping mechanism came and went like a warm breeze on a chilly spring day: A red-headed demon he had met on the wall of Eden.

Whenever Crowley was in the area, the angel always brightened up. The time of The Arrangement was a time of prosperity and joy for the angel. He had gotten quite skilled at squashing down his need to be touched by the time it was fully in effect. Yes, there was the rare moment when he broke down at the sight of a couple kissing however, the angel was careful to make sure that the demon was never around during them. He didn’t want to ruin the careful balance of friendship they had built.

Aziraphale felt that if he asked for the demon’s help, it would change how he saw the clearly broken angel. There was always the thought in the back of his mind: _If my own kind is disgusted at the thought of touching me, why would a demon even consider it?_ On the off chance that Crowley would be accommodating in assisting the angel, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for the questions that the dear demon loved to ask.

Another reason he hesitated to request the demon’s help was that since he had been without touch for so long, the briefest brush of hands would make him incredibly vulnerable mentally and physically in front of the demon. As much as he trusted Crowley, he didn’t want to put himself in a position of admitting that heaven may not be all that good just from a few clever questions. At least not yet.

It wasn’t until the years leading up to the apocalypse did Crowley’s usually alleviating presence become the angel’s source of anguish.

The space between them had shrunk over the past 6000 years. When they walked or sat, Aziraphale could feel heat radiate off the demon. It was intoxicating. Just being near him made the pain so much better while simultaneously making it so much worse. It was tempting him as something he could never have. As they worked together at the Dowling’s estate and drank themselves silly during the years leading up to Armageddon, Crowley’s familiar presence just made him long for more. For touch.

But conflicting thoughts filled his head as the end drew near. _Maybe this was the grand test that would get him back into heaven's good graces_. If he didn’t succumb to his desires on earth, he might finally be allowed to feel that heavenly warmth again. It had been his goal for so long that he didn’t even think to ask himself if that was what he still wanted.

Just before the end, he chose heaven over Crowley and he immediately regretted it.


	2. Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you're back! Yay! Thank you so much for the kudos and comments on the last chapter! I think I've figured out how most things work now. But anyway, this chapter is where the bulk of things happen. It's all pretty continuous, not that time-jump format thing I had going on in the first chapter. A lot of tears but man am I sucker for these characters being touch-starved (it just happened to be Aziraphale for this fic). Is it projecting... who knows? haha anyway enjoy!

Aziraphale stood from the bench, straightening out his coat absentmindedly as he contemplated the past few months. Much like his decisions in Eden, he did not regret standing with Crowley at the end of the world. And yet, even though he had always felt separated from heaven, there was a certain sting to being rejected by your own kind officially. 

He assumed it was because before the apocalypse, he had held onto the hope that one day he would have pleased the archangels enough to be let back into heaven. Back into the touch he was raised on. He now acknowledged that it was just a foolish dream. He cursed himself for nearly losing the demon — and himself — to finally realize that. Yes, the betrayal of heaven hurt. It made his chest ache and stomach clench, but no, he did not regret it. He had held out several millenias without heaven’s touch. What difference was an eternity?

With a shaky sigh, the angel headed back to his shop, pushing away his constant craving for touch with practiced ease. A nice cup of tea and a lovely book would be precisely his cure, he thought assuredly. Maybe a special demon would stop by and distract him. They could share a drink and catch up. He smiled softly at the thought of Crowley and picked up his pace.

The two had been spending more time together lately, not that either complained. They no longer had opposing sides breathing down their necks, so they went out to lunches and dinners without fear of who saw. It also wasn’t unusual for the demon to stop by unexpectedly and surprise the angel with a treat — usually involving alcohol. You see, during the past few months they had found that coping with this newfound independence was easier done with company and quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol. 

Coincidently, the serpent _did_ stop by that evening, as the angel had secretly hoped; and he was currently perched precariously on the back of the armchair Aziraphale usually sat in. Crowley had insisted that it was better to tell his story from a higher vantage point, so they had switched for the evening. He had a drink in his hand and was gesticulating wildly, describing his latest mischievous deed to a very inebriated angel. 

To be fair, they were both very drunk. The story was nonsensical to both parties yet neither seemed to mind. Aziraphale was content to bask in the heat of his friend and relax into the couch, listening to the serpent speak. The earlier intrusive thoughts were forgotten as he concentrated on his demonic counterpart’s presence before him. Crowley’s voice filled his ears and warmed him nearly to his core, reminding him of the old days when spending time with the demon was a rarity. _Look how far we’ve come_ , he thought drunkenly as he made himself more comfortable. Meanwhile, Crowley flailed wildly, trying to keep his balance and finish what he was saying.

As the night progressed, an unfortunately familiar feeling slowly crept to the forefront of the angel's corporation. It was that same sense of longing and need for touch that had plagued him earlier; but being in such an inebriated state, he didn’t realize until it was much too late. 

There was an ebb in the conversation when the angel’s heart clenched with a sharp pain, he froze. _No, not now!_ His breathing began to pick up as panic began to take hold. In six thousand years he had never broken down in front of the demon, especially over this. He quickly averted his gaze to the floor, uselessly trying to push the feeling away.

"You good angel?" Crowley slurred out, straightening out his sunglasses as he leaned forward. Aziraphale cursed himself and his rotten luck, _of course he noticed_.

"'m fine." He choked out. Nodding profusely while taking a long sip from his cup. Alcohol usually helped with forgetting his problems. Maybe drowning in liquor would make the ache go away tonight.

"You don't look fine. You got all pale and stiff 'n stuff." Crowley approached the angel whose gaze was determinedly fixed to the cup he was holding in his lap. His hands folded around it neatly, tensing as the pressure continued to build inside him. The sudden attention by the red-headed demon was not helping.

Aziraphale wanted to tell him to leave, that he didn't want to be around the angel when he got desperate. He wanted to push him away like he had done so many times before when he started to feel this way. But tonight he just couldn't.

"Should we sober up, talk about it?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale took a deep breath before attempting to meet the demon's gaze. Quickly looking away again when he saw that he had taken off his sunglasses. Those golden serpentine eyes were so warm that Aziraphale wanted to swim in their golden irises, it was too much. "Talk about what?"

"Angel, look I am already sober. Something is bothering you, let me help." Crowley's warm voice seemed to envelop the angel and Aziraphale shivered at the warmth that he longed for. "What do you need?"

Aziraphale's intoxicated body started to give in, "Could you-?" he faded out embarrassed. _He shouldn’t need this. He just needed a moment then everything would be tickety boo, back to normal._

"Anything angel. Absolutely anything." Crowley encouraged gently, taking the empty cup from the angel’s grip and placing it on a nearby table. The feeling of those fingers so close but not touching was unbearable and he couldn’t take it anymore.

"Touch. Please." Aziraphale whimpered out, blushing furiously.

Without hesitation, Crowley sunk down into the couch next to Aziraphale. "Of course, darling. Is this okay?" He pulled the angel into a soft hug and Aziraphale nearly sobbed at the touch, nodding vigorously.

In the back of his mind he wondered how the pet name ‘darling’ got put into the mix but he wasn't complaining. He leaned into the demon’s lithe body, relishing in the feeling of Crowley's hands on his back, tracing patterns into his overcoat. The warmth was more than Aziraphale had had in years and he began to cry silently, burying his head into Crowley's shoulder so the demon wouldn't see.

"Angel, I care about you so much and I know it has been tough being away from heaven for so long since the apocalypse. I was an angel once too and know how much you need warmth and love." Crowley sighed into Aziraphale, holding him tighter, "It must be hard not having that anymore… They must be better at this whole… comforting thing than I could ever possibly be, but I will try and be enough for you. I just need you to know something…" The hands stilled on Aziraphale's back and the angel whimpered quietly, "I- wait. Are you crying?"

Aziraphale sniffed and quickly tried to wipe his tears and clean himself up; trying to hide the evidence but it was too late. Crowley pulled away, holding the angel by his shoulders as he tried to look at the angel straight in the face. Aziraphale felt tears well in his eyes at the loss of contact. 

"It's only been a few months, angel. I know it must be hard without touch but darling you mustn't cry. I'm here for you."

Aziraphale's brain didn't want to work so he blurted out the first thing it could think of. "Darling?"

Crowley smiled, his golden eyes crinkling slightly. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He sighed and rubbed Aziraphale's sides gently. "I know you're going to need affection through the years and I don't want you to be scared or nervous to ask me for it. Through everything we have been through, I have grown to be quite affectionate of you, my angel. If you simply want to keep things platonic between us, I won't object; but I want you to know that if you need more, you can have it. My love, my heart, my touch, everything that is mine is yours."

Aziraphale blinked in confusion. This was the first taste of proper touch and warmth he had been given in many long years, of course he was a little distracted. The warmth he was feeling, just from Crowley’s hand on his shoulder, flooded his chest and mind. Therefore, though the sentiment was heard, it wasn't sinking in as it properly should. He just stared with wide blue eyes, hoping the demon would understand that he needed _more_.

There was a pause as Crowley waited for some sort of reaction. Serpent eyes filled with hope and just a hint of fear, as he had just laid his heart bare in front of the angel. When he was given nothing except for wide watery eyes boring into him, it dawned on him that maybe Aziraphale was not listening. He dropped his hands with a defeated sigh and Aziraphale fought the urge to grasp back at him. He wanted to chase that touch but just whimpered and curled in on himself at the loss.

"Angel, you shouldn't be this… desperate. Why are you crying? Is something else wrong? What happened?"

Aziraphale's breath hitched as his body shuddered, heart clenching painfully. "Touch please, anywhere… just… _please_."

Strong, warm hands found their way to cup the angel's soft face, tilting it up to face the demon. Aziraphale failed to meet the golden eyes as tears rolled down his cheeks. He just sighed with relief at the contact and pressed himself closer.

"Angel, look at me." Crowley pleaded softly.

Slowly, Aziraphale raised his gaze to meet the demons. At the utter warmth and love in the demon's eyes, a sob was torn from the angel’s throat. Subconsciously his hands raised to meet Crowley's hands that were cupping his face leaning even further into the warmth.

"How long has it been?"

Aziraphale shook his head not wanting to admit the answer even to himself, "Please…"

Crowley sighed, "This is important to me, angel. How long since you were last touched like this? I was expecting you to be simply uncomfortable being away from heaven these few months after Armageddon, not tears."

Aziraphale choked on the answer before finally spitting out, "About a century or two." and broke down into sobs.

Crowley was silent for a second before hissing and pulling the angel into the tightest hug he could muster. "Fuck."

The angel grasped at the demon wanting to drown himself in his warmth and love. He squeezed his eyes shut and clung to the demon desperately. He sobbed into his jacket, feeling so loved as the words the demon had said earlier finally sunk in. "Thank you." He gasped over and over between sobs.

He felt the demon shiver in his arms and realized that Crowley was crying as well. "Why? Why for- for that long?"

Aziraphale pulled back slightly and buried his blonde curls into the demon's chest, tears falling freely. "Said I was undeserving. I made too many mistakes… Eden…"

Crowley sucked in a deep breath and shaky hands rubbed up and down along the angel's body. "Aziraphale, you are the most deserving being of love and affection that I have ever had the privilege of meeting. And I'm so sorry for everything."

Aziraphale took a few short breaths before meeting the demon's tear stained eyes, "You have nothing to be sorry for, my dear. None of it was your fault. The blame is on me."

Crowley shook his head, "No. Please angel. That's not true."

Aziraphale smiled sadly before choking on tears. Crowley pulled him back into the embrace and they stayed like that for a long while. The angel tried to drink in as much affection as he possibly could, and the demon was more than happy to provide. The serpent whispered sweet nothings into Aziraphale’s ear and his hands kept him warm. Though the sensations were overwhelming, Aziraphale had been starved so long that it didn’t matter. He just pressed closer to Crowley, never intending on letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I'll be posting the last chapter next Thursday, if you want to stick around :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This is the last bit of this story, nice and short almost like an epilogue-ish. Anyway, thanks for sticking around to the end and I hope you liked the story! Can't wait to start posting more on this site soon ;)

The angel awoke resting atop a sleeping demon. Their fingers on one hand were intertwined and one of Crowley's long arms was draped protectively across Aziraphale's back as he still was snoozing on the couch. It wasn’t the most ideal place for them to rest, but they had little motivation to move once they settled there.

Aziraphale sighed happily, enjoying this moment of complete warmth and bliss. The many long years of isolation and discomfort was finally being melted away by the rhythmic feeling of the rise and fall of Crowley's chest beneath his. He couldn’t remember a time that he had been this content; so he nuzzled closer, his fluffy curls tickling the demon's throat.

Crowley shifted below, eyelids fluttering open to the sight of Aziraphale cuddling into his chest, "G'mornin angel." he muttered drowsily.

Aziraphale just hummed delightedly drinking in Crowley's warmth and holding him tighter.

"You just wake up?" Crowley asked, attempting to sit up when the angel pushed him back down. Not with very much force, just clearly letting the demon know what he wanted. Crowley huffed, a small smile gracing his lips as he settled back down willingly. "You feeling okay?"

Aziraphale nodded, "I think I'm still drunk." He slurred, grinning loopily at the demon below him.

Crowley quirked an eyebrow, smiling softly, "Are you now?"

The blonde nodded, quietly giggling next to the demon's ear.

"Well, as much as I love waking up to the sight of you. My bones are not meant to lay in the same position for too long. You mind shifting over a little, so I can stretch?"

The angel frowned but complied, shifting to the side. Crowley sat up and arched his back and limbs in unimaginable positions and a million joints popped. Aziraphale tried to be patient as he longed for that warmth that he had just had in his hands a moment ago. When he deemed that the serpent had stretched enough he tugged him back next to his body.

"You really are just a cuddlebug aren't you?" Crowley joked, laughing as he ruffled the angel's curls. "Are we going to stay like this forever?"

Aziraphale nodded, burrowing his face into the demon's neck. He inhaled Crowley's scent and sighed dreamily. "I don't want to ever sober up."

Crowley hesitated a moment, cupping the angel's face gently. A trace of concern in those golden eyes, "I'll still be here if you do." he whispered.

Aziraphale hummed in response, "It's not the alcohol anymore. it's the touch. It's been so long. _So long_."

Crowley smiled at the angel sadly, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "I'm sorry love."

The angel blushed heavily at the word ‘love’. He wasn’t used to this open verbal affection with Crowley. Their love language before this had been mainly in action and subtext, always trying to stay hidden from their respective ‘sides’. Even this physical affection that Aziraphale was relishing in, was new and unheard of from their long history.

Face flushing, he moved to sit up, releasing the demon from his clutch. He was suddenly very self conscious of how much had changed in such a short time. He had shown his true colors to the demon. The needy, desperate part of himself he had tried to keep hidden for so long and it was a little unnerving on how willingly Crowley had sated it. "I'm sorry to," he muttered quietly. Things were certainly going to be different from here on out. Crowley had expected an angel with just a few months without touch, not Aziraphale’s long history of starvation.

The demon breathed a short laugh, adjusting himself so he was facing the angel, "You have nothing to be sorry for." He took the angel's hand into his and intertwined their fingers once again. He rubbed comforting circles onto the back with his thumb. Aziraphale shivered at the contact, leaning into the demon's side. “I am more than happy to assist in any way I can.”

Aziraphale felt tears prick at his eyes but he refused to cry again. Enough tears had been shed already. “Oh, my dear.” He smiled up at Crowley, his fears slowly drifted away.

Crowley squeezed his hand reassuringly before letting go and checking his phone briefly. “Ah, It seems we've been asleep for much longer than a night. Are you feeling peckish? It’s a perfect day for lunch at the Ritz."

"That sounds perfect." Aziraphale breathed, trying to build up the courage to let go of the demon.

Turns out, there was no need. The entire way there, Crowley refused to keep his hands off of the angel. He offered his arm to take as they walked to and from the car. During the drive he had his hand in Aziraphale's every spare moment that he wasn't using it to shift gears. Even during dinner, he rested his foot next to the angel's and squeezed his hand comfortingly under the table when they weren't eating. To Aziraphale’s amazement, Crowley seemed to know exactly how much he craved that closeness and the demon didn’t even hesitate in providing.

During the meal, they didn't talk much. Aziraphale was too distracted and reduced to a pile of nerves and emotions to hold any conversation. Crowley didn't complain, just asking every once in a while if Aziraphale was okay with what he was doing. The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm the angel with touch. Aziraphale never refused, just blushing and smiling at the demon in a way that made the serpent's heart flutter.

When the two finally retired to the bookshop, Aziraphale tore himself apart from the demon to get some wine and glasses for the pair. As he poured he looked around at the room, conflict clear in his eyes. He usually sat in the armchair, across from the demon; but he didn't want to do that tonight, he wanted to be next to him as they were the night before.

"Come here angel." Crowley called quietly, patting the space next to him in invitation.

Aziraphale sighed in relief and all but collapsed in the space, handing the demon his drink. They were silent for a while, the angel enjoying the warmth from the body next to him. Though the demon didn’t seem to be doing the same. All through the night, Crowley had been the epitome of calm and collected but now he was tense sitting beside him and the angel knew something was on his mind.

"So, you don't mind, then." Crowley finally said after a few minutes of silence.

"Mind what?" Aziraphale asked curiously.

"What I said last time? You know..." he shifted uncomfortably.

Realization dawned on the angel, _Crowley’s confession_ , "Oh my dear of course. You must know I have grown quite affectionate of you as well."

For the first time since Aziraphale's breakdown, the serpent looked unsure of himself. "It's just the drunk touch talking."

"No." Aziraphale said firmly, "It's true, I swear."

Crowley shook his head, looking down at his hand, not meeting the angel's gaze.

The angel sighed and set his wine glass down. He reached out and gently lifted the demons chin so he could peer into those golden eyes unobstructed. "My dear…" Crowley looked back at him with such hope and love that it hurt to see how unsure he was that Aziraphale didn't reciprocate fully. The angel cradled the demon's face in his hands trying to communicate just how deep his love for him ran. He leaned in and captured the demon's lips with his own in a chaste, tender kiss. Crowley stiffened at first before melting into the angel's hands and lips. When the angel finally pulled away, he was rendered breathless.

"I love you." the angel whispered, putting their foreheads together so he could keep gazing into those golden eyes. Crowley made an undignified noise, blush high on his cheeks, before diving in and capturing the angel's lips again.

Aziraphale smiled into the kiss, letting the demon deepen it. He enjoyed how the demon's hands seemed to flutter over every inch of his body. He did his best to reciprocate but ended up just clutching the demon's back as the warmth flooded him once again.

Crowley tore himself away, looking into the angel's dazed eyes. "You don't know how long I've wanted to hear you say that."

"I should have said it a long time ago, my love." Aziraphale muttered breathlessly, shooting him one of his disarming smiles.

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and made 'ngk' sound. He shoved his head into the angel's shoulder, clutching him tightly, "I love you to." He whimpered quietly.

Aziraphale melted into his arms, his own coming up to embrace the demon in return. "I know, my dearest. I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading to the end! I hope you liked it! Hopefully I'll see you soon with some more of my work <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. I'll be posting on Thursdays if you would like to stick around :)


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